


Vlad (2009)

by faithlessandtrue



Category: Kasabian, RPS, The Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-23 01:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2528822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithlessandtrue/pseuds/faithlessandtrue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A micro narrative (300 words) dressed in a cape and a false moustache.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vlad (2009)

Fuck, so that's what it's like to be a real rock star. Pratting about with his mates in a tiny club, while celebrity worshipping sycophants watch through the lenses of their cameras, pales in comparison.

He runs his hand through his hair. Three or four crazy minutes as Vlad and it's like the world has expanded, the colours are sharper and brighter, the vodka is singing in his bloodstream.

He's high on the crowd, high on Tom's mesmerising frontman performance, on Serge's transported madness. It's not like comedy, not on nights like this, it's communion, religious ecstasy and for once in his life he's genuinely speechless. He hugs Serge, pressing tight into the heat of his body, his head resting on the taller man’s shoulder. 'Thank you,' he manages. Grateful for the stack heel boots, he stretches up and kisses the corner of Serge's mouth, 'that was incredible!'

From the first time he met him he thought Serge was beautiful, a wild knight from a Pre- Raphaelite fantasy. But tonight, even shiny with sweat, he's more than that, black hair and clothes accented by red on his wrists and in the stain of his bitten lips. Noel wants him, is consumed with lust, wants to strip him down, keep him flying. He presses closer and there's no way Serge is going to miss how interested he is. He gets a raised eyebrow and a quizzical look but Serge isn't pulling away.

But then Tom’s stepping between them, loose limbed, lips tight round the neck of a bottle of Becks. He flashes Noel a look that's all about territory and laughs, 'you were great, bro'. He squeezes Noel's arm then kisses Serge full on the lips, hard and possessive.

The slow closing of Serge's eyes is all the dismissal Noel needs.


End file.
